The Price Of Redemption
by The Muses of FanFiction
Summary: A Hunter of Artemis is supposed to swear off romance for a very good reason. It clouds their judgement. And when Leora broke the rules for love, it ended up leaving her alone and disgraced. She wanted a second chance. Redemption. (SYOC Closed)
1. Prologue- Leora

**PROLOGUE**

 ** _Leora_**

"You've disappointed me, Leora…"

My lady's face was framed in shadow, the pale silver-yellow of her eyes like moons, blended into the dark of the night sky, brighter than the stars at her back. Late spring grass rustled, shifted only by the wind. Despite the brightness of her eyes, unnerving even to those who had borne their weight over nearly a century, it was the impassivity of her face that caught and held me more than unwillingly transfixed.

It was unnecessary for her to tell me; her despondency was visible in the curve of her mouth, the odd quirk at the corner — a tell-tale sign since long before I was born, I'd been told — markedly pronounced. After nearly ninety years in the service of the Lady Artemis, I knew many of her traits, her idiosyncrasies. More than many of my companions, elder and younger alike.

I had never seen her appear in quite such a state.

"You broke my trust and a divine vow," she breathed, eyes glinting coldly. "I hereby strip you of my blessings and immortality. You are my Hunter no more, Leora Ashlar."

People rarely consider their own weight, I have found. The legs bear it effortlessly, within reason, and I myself have rarely put a conscious thought behind it. It is comfortable, and familiar, for lack of another load to bolster.

That was how I felt in my mortal state, just enough of that… Comfort to feel there, to feel… Material, I suppose. As a follower of Artemis, that weight went from unconscious to nearly nonexistent, a lightness to my feet that would most likely never exist to any mortal.

The previous level of comfort that came with that weight, that familiarity, was long gone, the sudden feeling, as if it had dropped upon my shoulders, was enough to make me stagger, had I been standing. I ducked my head, planting one hand flat on the ground to steady myself as I adjusted. The goddess could have made it far worse, I know, I could have collapsed entirely, or begun to spasm and shriek in torment. This was… Worse, in no way and therefore in any and every.

We are her children, when we become her Hunters, and she cast me aside with all the love and care of a mother. And with all the undisguised loss.

When I raised my head, her moon-like eyes had darkened into shadow. Her face maintained its controlled serenity, the curl at her lip gently smoothing out into impassivity.

Light fell instead upon the bow lain beside my foot, glowing silver in the moon's pale luster. My bow, which had always only appeared when it was needed. I could sense it, and then, all the magic in it was gone, drained or removed, returning to the goddess. When I reached out and brushed my fingers against the polished surface, it did not shrink away.

The lady turned and left without another word, her steps soundless, more over the ground than on, and disappeared into the trees. My sisters followed, until I could feel they had all gone, their magical auras indiscernible.

On my feet, after a prolonged, lingering moment that may well have been an hour, had it not been for the moon's unchanging position, I got to my feet, avoiding the discomfort of stumbling over my boots by simple, unadulterated luck, years of effortless, thoughtless grace unavailable to my suddenly mortal frame. It is not a sensation I would particularly care to recommend.

Though not the clearest of all lakes, Lake Champlain blended well with the dark of the night sky above, as truly black as the blue shimmer that would come with daylight, flecked with bright pinpricks, a representation akin to that in a watercolor canvas.

I was never one to assign blame to other, when not justifiable. I could not and did not blame Artemis; she had done only what she had always sworn to do, carried on since well before anything with which I was familiar. It was not within my rights to blame her, to harbor offense. It was impersonal, the same fate that would have come to any of my sisters, had they done as I had.

And yet… The undesired feeling lingered. I _resented_ her, though the word would seem to have fallen short. The sharp, angry pinpricks were familiar enough, but rather than the scorching burn I would have recognized, these went well beyond cold, seemingly spread over every inch of my being — well beyond a simple physical reaction — unnerving to say the least.

My contrition there was owing and utterly unquestionable.

As for the other of my sorrows, the one that had abruptly and dramatically been shoved from the forefront of my mind- Though guilt there, while justified and deserved, was not mine alone to bear.

What did it matter? He would regret nothing, I knew _that_ without sparing another moment to considering it. Why would he?

No, Greg didn't deserve to monopolize my mind. Those thoughts could remain on the edges for a time. For the moment, there were greater things at work. Decades of training aside, I was mortal again, and without the goddess and my sisters, and still unsteady on my feet, I was vulnerable, an easy target to any wayward hellhound or flock of Stymphalian birds nearby.

An unfamiliar feeling, and not one I savored. Without the blessings of Artemis, the best place would be the same I had left some ninety years previously, to join the Hunt. There are some who might have considered that to be symbolic.

Before my mind could offer any other suggestion, a rustling off to one side, little more than those of the wind on the grass, but an outlier simply for the sake of my own rising concerns, made up my mind for me.

* * *

 **Authors' Note**

 **Muse Thalia:** _Yay! Callie did it! Leora's amazing entrance! Poor Leora though… She's basically lost everything._

 **Muse Calliope:** _Seriously, how did this take so long! Oh, wait, I know that. Because I spent_ ** _eternity_** _looking up synonyms for other words. I feel like I went a bit… Poetic, but it fits._

 **Muse Thalia:** _It's definitely Leora! I feel the next POV we have planned is overly simplistic! Haha. At least the characters will all have different voices._ *smile*

 **Muse Calliope:** _Wonder what the others'll be like…_

 **Muse Thalia:** _I hope they are interesting! I bet the readers will come up with some fun OCs for us to tortu- I mean write!_

 **Muse Calliope:** _Sure ya do. Speaking of which, if you'd please refer to the below?_

 **Muse Thalia:** _Yes! All readers, we have our rules and form down below for your use. The form can also be found on our profile!_

 **SYOC Rules**

 **Rule One-** Details! Details! DETAILS! We thrive off that! And it's very much appreciated!

 **Rule Two-** All submissions must be in PM! Submissions in reviews won't be used!

 **Rule Three-** Every Submission PM must be labeled " _tPoR: First Name Last Name, Child of Parental God_ ". Ex: " _tPoR: Leora Ashlar, Child of Hecate_ ".

 **Rule Four-** If you have questions, please label it " _tPoR Questions- Your PenNam_ e". Ex: " _tPoR Questions- The Muses of FanFiction_ ".

 **Rule Five-** Don't be OP as Hades! Try to be reasonable! All characters need room to grow!

 **Rule Six-** Please ask before about Genders. We don't want an all Female cast because that's just no fun.

 **Rule Seven-** No Big Three kids! That so isn't happening! If I, Muse Thalia, see one Daughter of Poseidon or Child of Hades, I'll send the "Try again!" Message! Or just assign you a god if you can't think of one besides a Big Three! ("She's not kidding" says Calliope.)

 **Rule Eight-** If you all get salty about the POV lengths, then we have a problem. This is a story. Chapter length means nothing if the POV is First Person! Chapters could range from 5 words to over 2000! So please make sure you understand this before submitting!

 **Rule Nine-** You may send the OC in parts as you finish so we can get a good idea of where you are going with the character before we think about accepting. This isn't a requirement, but we will allow it.

 **Rule Ten-** Have fun! Creating a character should be more fun than work!

 **SYOC Form**

 **-BASIC INFO-**

Name:

Nicknames:

Age:

Birthdate:

Gender: **Female submissions are once again allowed**

Sexuality:

Godly Parent:

Appearance:

Appearance URL or Face Claim:

 **-PERSONAL INFO-**

Fatal Flaw:

Personality:

Quirks:

Abilities:

Strengths:

Likes:

Weaknesses:

Dislikes:

Family:

Friends:

 **-QUEST-**

Backpack Contents:

Weapon:

Fighting Style:

ADHD or Dyslexia or Both:

 **-THOUGHTS-**

Thoughts on Gods:

Thoughts on Godly Parent:

Thoughts on Titans:

Thoughts on Camp:

Thoughts on Hunters:

Thoughts on The Redemption Prophecy:

Thoughts on Leora:

Thoughts on Rhea's Blood Disguised:

Romance? (If Yes, we may ask more questions):

 **-HISTORY-**

Personal History (Keep in mind that The Second Titan War was in 2009. The current date is 2016. Don't tie the character to Canon Characters unless it's in passing.):

Previous Quests(If Any):

Monsters Battled Before:

 **-CHARACTER BUILDING-**

Favorite Vegetable?:

Favorite Fruit?:

Favorite Song?:

Favorite Movie?:

Favorite Season?:

Favorite Weather?:

What's their bedroom back home with their family look like?:

What's in their fridge?:

Would they sacrifice themselves for the greater good?:

Would they abandon an injured friend if asked?:

Major Defining Moment?:

Earliest Memory?:

Fondest Memory?:


	2. Chapter 1- ?

**Chapter One**

The night was lit with neon signs as the smoky atmosphere of the darker side of the city bustled. I ran, breathing labored due to the exertion of running for an unknown distance.

Mortals….

So unaware….

So clueless….

I envied them. Nothing about the world of gods and monsters seemed to bother them much. Even as those monstrosities chased me, no one batted an eye. All they saw was probably some poor, raggedy kid being pursued by angry aunties. But that was fine. I had grown used to being on my own.

I managed to lose my pursuers, but in my heart I knew they would find me again. With the adrenaline running through my veins, I pushed myself forward. I could feel my legs reaching their limit. They were like heavy weights that slowed me down. My green eyes searched my surroundings for hiding place as I race down the street. And that's when I saw the old trash bins that probably should have been in a museum by now. Lifting the rusted lid, I grimaced at the horrific smell that filled my nostrils. I dumped the contents and tried my best to make it look like a raccoon had rummaged through it.

My brilliant idea to avoid detection was to jump into the trash bin and close the lid, sealing myself in darkness and toxic smells. It wasn't the most nose-pleasing plan, but it was the most effective. I swore those monsters could smell me. That _woman_ always said I had an unusually strong scent. As to what I supposedly smelled like, not even I know. But my instincts told me to hide. Hide and wait for danger to pass.

The sounds of metal hooves hitting pavement grew closer and closer. I gripped my backpack to my chest as I tried to quiet my breath. The hooves stopped in front of me, one of them snarled in frustration.

"Where did that brat go?"

A growl sounded in response. "How am I to know? You lost her!"

"As if! I was following you!" replied the first one. "Perhaps she turned the other way, you idiot!"

A third person stomped on the cement as to silence the bickering. They had a lower voice, still feminine, but it gave me chills. "We need to find her. Let's go. She couldn't have gotten far." The hooves raced away, growing quieter as time went by. And then it was just silence, only the murmurs of the city nightlife as ambient noise. Fear still gripped my heart as I peeked from my hiding place.

No monsters in sight.

That was good. That was very good.

I crawled out of the trash can, hoping I didn't reek too bad. I was definitely going to need a shower, but that would have to wait as I still needed to make my way to shelter. Slipping into the crowd, I pulled up the hood of my jacket and tried to become just another faceless existence in the world around me. But that didn't keep my chaotic thoughts from consuming me.

Why me?

Why did I have to suffer like this?

Was I the only one running from monsters?

What am I anyway?

God?

Monster?

A sigh escaped my lips as I glanced up at the night sky. Stars were barely visible and the moon hidden by clouds. I can't help but stare at those stars which glittered without a single worry in the universe. They knew what they were and what they were meant to do. I didn't have that. I only knew what I wasn't.

I'm not human…

* * *

 **Authors' Notes**

 **Calliope:** _I've read it before, but nice! Great job Thalia, her voice is really different, it's a really nice contrast, I'd say._

 _(Also, to **GingersnapBeat** and **tobi-is-an-artist-too** ; thank you so much for what you guys said about Lea's voice and the writing style, it really made my day!)_

 **Thalia:** _A_ _www! Thanks, Callie! It was kind fun to write with a "mysterious" tone. I think we are doing pretty well so far! Good responses!_

 **Calliope:** _Y_ _eah, I don't think I've seen so many responses in the space of one day before, thanks to everyone, actually. We're really hard-pressed for our decisions, we're thinking along the lines of WWLD, which Thalia chose._

 **Thalia:** _WWLD: What Would Leora Do? Ah! So far there is an interesting pile of submissions! Thanks for being creative, you lovely readers! Hopefully we have the cast decided by Chapter 2 where we shall reveal the Main 4. Feel free to continue sending in submissions! Make it hard for us to choose!_

 **Calliope:** _See ya soon, thanks for reading and submitting!_

 **Thalia:** _Aye! See you all soon!_


	3. Chapter 2- Leora

**Chapter Two**

Like my sisters, I fought on the side of the gods during the Battle of Manhattan. The adoptive variation, at the very least.

I was told in the aftermath, as our lady brought us to Camp Half-Blood ー in observation, rather than simply a desire to extend assistance, for she wished us to see the price of our victory alongside the fruit it would bear. The leader of our brethren on the opposing side, the demigods drawn to Kronos to fill the ranks of his horde, had been one of my own brothers, operating under the name of Alabaster C. Torrington. I believe at one point my blade crossed with his, Celestial Bronze to his Imperial Gold, though the true fight was in a whirl of mist, not contained simply to the clashing of divine metal. A faint inkling at the edge of my conscious thoughts suggested a vague memory of his face, his lighter hair ruffled, light skin bearing the sheen of sweat that came only with a battle dragging on for far longer than it ought. His green eyes shadowed and heavy, no matter the strength of his blows, and the unrelenting power behind his sword beneath the early morning sun.

He was exiled from Camp, the reason cited being a desire to avoid the corruption of others of our kind. In truth, I did not believe he would have stayed, even given the option. It would not be a path I would have chosen, though my own has rather wavered from what I originally had mapped for myself.

During my original tenure of two years at Camp, I, like all other children of a considered minor deity, was placed in the Hermes cabin, for lack of one to call our own. There was one other child of Hecate there as well; Chess. He slept in the bunk above mine, and had a tendency to hang his upper body over the edge, along the lines of an over-sized possum.

After the Battle, Hecate, like the others, was given a cabin; the twentieth. On brief occasions, I had wondered what my marsupial-inclined brother would have thought of it. An elegant work of engraved stone, lit mostly by a single brazier, a blazing dance of leaping silver and gold sparks sunken in at the center, the beds spread to the sides, without the overbearing extravagance of several of the other cabins.

It contained modern traces as well, naturally; the obnoxiously bright orange extension cord Brandon ran from the Big House through one of the few windows, with the blaring sound system it powered, the large armchair Winston had managed to recruit several Hermes campers to assist him in hauling in from a street corner, and the layer of plastic Lola insisted strictly on draping over it at all times.

"AHHHHHH! OHMYFREAKINGGODS! THERATS! THERATS!" And of course, there was also Lola's cage of her father's white lab mice.

"They're mice!" She corrected, the typically smooth lilt of her voice tinged with an exasperation that was steadily gaining familiarity to my ears.

"I thought we had an agreement," said Brandon, from where he was crouched at the brazier's edge, fumbling with some small piece of technology, of the sort that continued to evade my understanding. "No more loose mice, and no more throwing pig bombs at each other!"

Winston, at a mere age of ten, continued to yell at a volume that would have been somewhat over the accepted volume for within the four walls of any structure. It echoed back from the concave-arched ceiling.

The blanket of silence shattered for the morning, I knew from the last several weeks of firsthand experience, I sat up, swinging my legs to the ground to disturb my sheets as little as possible, my feet meeting the cool stone without a sound. Despite the cold often believed to linger within stone, this was decidedly neutral, neither in an excess of heat or a lack of it.

Perhaps it came of our more recent history, the support our siblings and even our mother herself had lent to the Titans in the war, but it had appeared since I had arrived around a month before, that the residents of Cabin Twenty, well under a dozen, had become a closely-knit family, without the caveat of the former Rite of Passage of Aphrodite's cabin, or the consistent lack of spare change I could recall from the Hermes cabin. Beyond the first round of carefully dodged questions, I had found myself accepted into their ranks with remarkable ease, reminiscent more of when I had become one of Lady Artemis's attendants.

Though clearly, both came with unique conditions of their own.

Brandon looked up from his… Microprocessor? That did not seem to be the correct term, but I left it alone.

"Winn… Try and calm down. We don't want to wake the sleeping monster over there…" His green eyes flickered over to me, a forest-tinged variation of the flames reflected within them. "Hey, Lea. Grab the kid while I try to get Lola to put up her rats."

"For the last time… THEY ARE MICE!"

I had always taken authority well, "military brat" that I was born and raised. Age aside, Brandon was the chosen counselor of the cabin, and I bowed to that without resistance, moving away to the far smaller form of Winston.

"Rats! RATS! Help!" cried Winston, tears streaming down his face as he stood on a chair, trying to put distance between himself and the mice. "LEA!"

"Here." I reached out, catching the single small animal clinging to the fabric of his pyjama pants that he clearly had not noticed, my steps scattering the rest. "Better?"

Winston sniffed, deciding to attach himself to my person. "Much…"

Sure the little creature was contained to my hands, after thwarting two shamefully-poorly executed attempts at escape, even for a mouse, I opened them slightly to show him, taking a step back. "See, he won't hurt you."

The young brunette boy eyed the mouse suspiciously. "Really?"

The mouse was of the rare variety, one with black eyes rather than the usual red, its pelt of unmarked snow ruffled, though it remained still in my grasp, then. "He's just afraid, and he spends all that time in that cage, with so many others. He was probably looking for somewhere without all the others crowding in."

"Ok. So the rat is just as scared as I was?"

"Mouse," I corrected gently, my eyes darting to where Lola and Brandon appeared to be within a moment or two of an argument, at most. "And yes." Hesitating a moment, as he carefully stepped back to the ground, I continued. "I remember when we moved to New York. I was your age, and there were lots of mice everywhere, and rats. Not very many this color though, see?" I brushed my finger gently over the creature's pelt, along its back, "it is like snow."

He hesitantly touched the mouse, the motion far lighter than it would have been even with a feather, and started to smile before looking back to me. "Heehee! He's like a rabbit!"

Settling back into the old position I had once held as teacher was easier than I would have imagined before. Jamie had been surprisingly similar to Winston, despite being younger than my brother standing before me last I had seen him, although Aurora had not been so overly afraid of the small creatures. Though at the time, being afraid of them had been rather more than reasonable. "It is."

"Lou Ellen is gonna be mad!" giggled Kaya as she whirled past me, dressed in some sort of glittering costume vaguely reminiscent of the few times Aunt Cora had gone out to parties, to my eyes at least, complete with plastic wand, and with Edward in tow just behind.

My eyes went again to where Lola and Brandon stood by the cage, returning mice in ones and twos to inside the thin metal bars, at least one temper having inevitably boiled over.

"This is _all_ just blown out of portion! My babies have never been bad!"

Brandon looked as if preparing to go off the deep end, his composure slipping, forcing me to amend my statement to both their tempers. "That's it! _One more rat escapes and they are officially banned!_ "

And then the so-called "monster" awoke from her slumber on one of the extra cots.

"Can't anyone get any rest in here?" growled the former Cabin Counselor, Lou Ellen. "I come for a visit and I end up losing sleep and playing mother!" Magic, tinged with the green of the Mist, swirled around the remaining mice, the visitor in my hands pulled from my grasp, and carried them to the cage before snapping it shut and separating the bickering demigods before seemingly dissipating. "I'm going to go grab some breakfast. Go cool those heads!"

"She may have the right idea," I decided as she disappeared through the doorway, taking long strides to return to my own bed. Mist shrouded around me ー hardly a conscious decision, more out of habit than anything else ー as I changed into fitting daytime clothing.

Rather than a door, Hecate's cabin had a wall of shimmering green mist, pure magic that we could sense, and dispel or strengthen. Despite its technical lack of substance, it deterred any would-be mischief-makers well enough, at least from the outside. Sun did not penetrate it, leaving the cabin in a vague imitation of an ancient underground temple, but it shone strongly on my face as I emerged into the light. The last of the current cabins in the Omega, the short journey took me past nearly all of the other cabins, until my path passed between those of Hera and Demeter, nodding briefly to the smaller girl at the entrance, her French braid draped over one shoulder, knelt before a rose bush growing on the porch, several others shadows inside.

After its demolition by the Colossus Neronis and subsequent restoration, the dining hall had been largely expanded, with room for all of the current cabin tables and more beyond. Its columns were wrapped in streamers of red, white, and blue, strings of lights stretching between them, and shining brightly even against the direct light of Apollo's sun.

Ah yes. I had quite forgotten the date, a lapse in memory of the sort that was rare for me. It was noticeable on all the tables as well, draped in checkered cloths replacing the usual white and purple. Almost as of my own time.

The Hunters had rarely seen fit to celebrate, our lady had far preceded the beginning of the American country, or indeed even the idea of America in itself, as had many of our number.

As if in confirmation, Lukas of the Hephaestus cabin and several of his siblings passed in the opposite direction, lugging crates of readily made fireworks. Naturally, it had been a favorite holiday of my father's, and he had refused to refer to it " _like a calendar"_. I had known it always as Independence Day.

* * *

 **Authors' Note**

 **Muse Thalia:** _YES! WE HAVE DECIDED OUR FOUR! XD_

 **Muse Calliope:** _AND THEY ARE…_ (drum roll please) _… On our profile._

 **Muse Thalia:** _Heh! Like we'd tell you here! All characters are up on the profile and we got a Tumblr going for tPoR!_

 **Muse Calliope:** muses tpor . tumblr . com _;) We're two chapters in, and I'm already feeling the pressure. Y'all (guess I should embrace it) have been so amazing, and it's a great confidence boost. Hope we can hold it up._

 **Muse Thalia:** _You all really gave us such a hard selection of characters to choose from! But since we only felt like four…. We decided to do cameos of all the submitted OCs that didn't make it! The support y'all have shown has really been amazing!_

 **Muse Calliope:** _Of course, congratulations to you four. But to us, it's important that we do all these characters justice; it's why I spend forever working on Lea's chapters, a lot of it's just looking for synonyms and considering the "poetic" style, which I don't usually go for. It matters, because the characters we chose are yours, and they're meant to be living. They're people, after all.. Stories depend on dedication of the readers, otherwise, it loses everything that makes it anything (as in… well, you), and so, we'll work hard to do them justice. **Swear it on the Styx**_ (anyone happen to hear a clap of thunder just now?)

 **Muse Thalia:** _Exactly! So please, you four creators of Accepted OCs must PM us a paragraph that sums up your OC at Camp so that we may PM a list of the character descriptions to you four as to get OC opinions and thoughts. Heh… We don't even have an ending just yet… For all we know, everybody dies. Or everybody lives. Or goes missing for reasons! The story depends on the characters! Let's get 'er done!_

 **Muse Calliope:** _Keeping with trying to do them justice, we are expecting to go with their perspectives in a few chapters (one may or may-not be next chapter)... Along with that paragraph, please tell us how you picture their voice! How do their thoughts sound, how do they narrate? Lea's was meant as poetic, fluid, and hopefully carrying a lot of hint of someone wise, someone who looks at the world in a really metaphorical, sort of… Intricate style. And you guys have mentioned the point of view from chapter two as things like_ "primitive" _; not near so stylized (if I may quote, one of you mentioned if it was Leora, how she had_ "really spiraled down" _). That's exactly what we're looking for; that diversity._

 **Muse Thalia:** _Haha. It was kinda funny how everyone assumed Chapter One was with RBD instead of a villain. I died laughing. But anyway, since we really want to do your characters justice, we shall be asking who would the OC fall for if they said "Sure" to romance. Not like it'd be a big part, but hey who doesn't love a ship to float or sink? *big evil grin*_

 **Muse Calliope:** _(Dang that's a lot of Author Note) Don't worry, no matter the amount of romance we add (see where it's gotten Lea so far?), the core of this story is… I guess that's the fun part, we all get to see together. Later!_

 **Muse Thalia:** _Bye! Be sure to review and continue sticking with us!_


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